


User's Guide To Being a Badass Douche

by feverbeats



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-12
Updated: 2010-06-12
Packaged: 2017-10-10 02:17:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/94138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feverbeats/pseuds/feverbeats
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Professor, how exactly would you go about asking someone out?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	User's Guide To Being a Badass Douche

**Author's Note:**

> Most of the Barty Crouch, Jr. stuff in this belongs to [](http://cause-to-effect.livejournal.com/profile)[**cause_to_effect**](http://cause-to-effect.livejournal.com/).

  
Hogwarts is a bustle of excitement in preparation for the Yule Bull, hormones bristling and everyone panicking to a ridiculous degree. Everyone's acting off and Neville is just trying to keep his head above water. The idea of getting a date is far too much for him to even deal with at the moment, with everything else going on.

He's more afraid every day of what might happen if the Death Eaters rise again. The walls of Azkaban have been breached once; it could happen again. He knows what's in there.

The only thing that makes the fear a little easier is Moody. He seems to have taken a liking to Neville for some unfathomable reason, so Neville has been running to his office whenever the stress of the upcoming ball is too much.

One day, Neville decides he might as well ask Moody about the problem of going to the ball alone. After a half an hour of small talk about plants and tea, he manages to get up the courage to ask without stammering too much.

"Professor, how exactly would you go about asking someone out?" He blushes furiously, annoyed with himself for asking so clumsily. He can't even ask someone how to ask someone. "I mean, the Yule Ball's coming up, and I haven't got a date, and . . ." He bites his lip.

"Well," Moody says in a measured tone, leaning back in his seat, "Here's what you've got to do: First of all, you get the person alone, got it? Then you lean in real close and you say, 'You and me.'" He nods, seemingly satisfied with himself.

Neville hesitates. "Professor . . . No offense, but that sounds more like advice on how to catch a criminal than how to get a date."

Moody shrugs. "Maybe so. But you have to be forceful."

Neville is pretty sure he's never been forceful in his life, but he's willing to take Moody's advice. "Um," he says.

"And then," Moody says, "If that doesn't work? You grab 'em by the jaw and just kiss 'em."

That seems even less like something Neville would do _ever_, but he just swallows and nods. "Well, thanks." He pauses. "Professor . . . What if they still turn you down? I mean, it'd just be humiliating, wouldn't it?"

Moody scoffs. "You just shrug, say, 'Your loss,' and walk away."

Neville smiles. "Right. I'll, uh, give it a go, then. Bye, Professor Moody."

*

The ball is the first chance Barty has to really loosen up and be, if not exactly _himself_, at least someone other than Moody for a few hours.

He used to love the song they're playing, some thing from the mid-seventies he thinks is probably Alice Cooper. He loved that stuff, during the rebellious phase he never exactly grew out of.

The taste of Moody's words in his mouth is sour and complicated, and he can't quite sort out why. He hates aurors, especially those in tight with the Ministry, but he never hated Moody. Their morals overlap in too many places. He can spit the importance of constant vigilance at the students and berate the ex-Death Eaters for being what they are with perfect ease and never even have to put on an act.

He isn't sure if he's using Neville Longbottom to get to Potter or if he's not using him at all. Maybe he keeps talking to the boy to make up for what he did to Frank and Alice. He sees that the boy has a date, although possibly not the one he originally had his sights set on.

Tonight, though, is a night for celebration, not contemplation. Barty sits back and taps his wooden leg against the floor in the rhythm of the old song and watches the kids dance.


End file.
